Something New
by starryjules
Summary: Tony and Ziva and Jimmy Palmer's wedding. No spoilers for the actual event; just dancing and pure fluff of the sweetest variety.  Love or strong partnership/friendship, dealer's choice.  Guaranteed to bring a smile to your day!


**I'm still working on tagging _Desperate Man._ I have a lot of ideas in my head, but they have yet to sort themselves out, so this happy fluffiness is taking precedence. I wanted to do a wedding tag before we actually see that episode and something else becomes canon. And I have to admit, nothing has _ever_ made me smile so much while writing. I am completely in love with the way this came out and hope you enjoy it as well!**

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><p>"You <em>really <em>thought he would have a barbershop quartet?"

Tony shrugged, glancing up at the bandstand. "Jimmy seemed real keen on it at the bachelor party, but that was after four appletinis. This guy does a mean Sammy at least."

Ziva grinned proudly. "Sammy Davis Junior of the brat pack," she said with confidence, and he couldn't help the answering grin.

"Close enough."

The song ended but Tony didn't relinquish his hold on his partner's hand; if anything, his right arm wrapped just a little bit tighter around her waist.

She raised an eyebrow and his smile turned charming. "Best two outta three. Besides, if I let you go then you'll be stuck dancing with Palmer's cousin, groomsman number four. He's been gawking at you all night."

"Really," she drawled, exaggerating the head swivel as she scanned the room. "He was the hot one, yes?"

Tony gave his best wounded look, pulling her just a little bit closer. "Hurtful, David." She giggled - honest to God giggled. He highly suspected it had something to do with the copious amounts of Dom Perignon they had both consumed (who knew the funeral home business could be so lucrative?) or at least he was willing to blame the champagne as his mouth charged on ahead without any input from his brain. "Though I certainly can't blame the guy. You are easily the most beautiful woman in this room right now."

A faint blush tinged her cheeks and she gave him an expression that was equal parts indulgence and exasperation. He didn't care; it was true. For no less than the twentieth time that night, he allowed his eyes to wander down the simple black dress to where it ended with a little flair just above her knees. His right hand, apparently taking its cues from his defiant mouth, traveled just a few inches north and encountered - nothing. Just the smooth, silky skin of her back. _Little backless dresses should become a part of the NCIS dress code_, he mused before his eyes shot over Ziva's shoulder to where Gibbs sat at their table. He was suddenly and irrationally fearful that the boss could read his thoughts, but one glance showed that his glare was directed elsewhere. Specifically, Gibbs' attention was focused on a spot about twenty feet to their right, where Abby's arms were wrapped tightly around the neck of one Very Special Probie, their bodies far too close to be considered friendly. A small voice in the back of his head whispered _hypocrite_ as he leaned in further to rest his cheek against Ziva's hair.

He was murmuring along absentmindedly with the music when she '_tsked_' suddenly.

"This is a horrible song."

He leaned back again, his face shocked. "Bite your multilingual, idiom-challenged tongue! It's Dean, Ziva!"

She stood her ground even as he continued to rotate them on the spot. "_You're nobody until somebody loves you?_ Those are terrible and condescending lyrics," she countered.

"_Dean Martin_. Criticizing Dean Martin is like talking smack about Mother Teresa. Or Gibbs. It's something you _just_ don't do."

"You realize you just put Gibbs and one of the world's greatest humanitarians in the same category right?"

"Don't change the subject! Quick, apologize to the music Gods before Dag rolls over in his grave."

She gave him a bewildered look, clearly not understanding either the nickname or the saying, but she just shook her head.

"Tony, I like Dean Martin. I am just saying that the song is insulting."

He rolled his eyes and exaggerated the sigh. "I'd continue to argue with you, but I'm still not entirely sure you left your Sig at home."

"Don't be ridiculous; where would I put it? I just have my knife tonight."

That efficiently distracted him, his expression turning dubious. "Seriously? _Where?_"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Actually I really, _really_ would…"

She shushed him and he grinned, pulling her close once more. They danced in silence for a few long seconds, but he couldn't let it go.

"It's not supposed to be insulting, Ziva," he said suddenly, his voice soft at her ear. "It's a song to remind you that we're all just little ants in this life. No matter how much money we make or power we gain, the world keeps on turning, the stars keep shining. The only thing that makes a difference, makes it all worthwhile, is love."

She was the one to pull back this time, her expression indecipherable. "Do you truly believe that?"

The question posed was quiet and serious, and he responded in kind. "I do."

Her mask slipped then and her eyes voiced sudden distress even as her silent lips turned down in a little frown. Sometimes she was ridiculously easy to read.

She looked down to their feet and Tony brought their intertwined hands in so he could place a finger under her chin. Even in her dangerously high heels, she was still several inches shorter than him, and he waited until she looked up and met his eyes again. He rested their hands against his chest and gave her a small smile.

"Love doesn't just have to be lust and passion. You've got plenty of people around you already who love you unconditionally. You know that. But as far as the other stuff...'content' will give way to happiness when the time is right, Ziva. I don't think you need to worry too much or look too far to find someone to love."

Her mouth opened into a soft little 'o' and the look she gave him then was undisguised affection. The song in question ended, and the opening chords of the next brought such a smile to his face that she couldn't help but return it.

"Three outta five," he muttered and she laughed softly. "This one should be more to your liking, Ziva David." He pulled her close once more, all pretense of conventional partnership melting away as she pressed her cheek to his chest and his fingertips trailed lightly up and down her back.

_Some day, when I'm awfully low,_

_When the world is cold,_

_I will feel a glow just thinking of you_

_And the way you look tonight._

His voice was soft and low, singing along with the song as he had the two before it. But something had shifted in the last few minutes, and his warm breath against her ear suddenly felt like the most intimate thing in the world.

_Yes you're lovely, with your smile so warm_

_And your cheeks so soft,_

_There is nothing for me but to love you,_

_And the way you look tonight._

Ducky chuckled at Gibbs' resigned sigh and tore his gaze away from the dancing pair to regard his old friend. He smiled warmly and raised up his flute, waiting until Gibbs begrudingly tilted his own to the side to meet in a little _chink_. "To love, my dear Jethro. To new chances, new beginnings and love..."

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><p><strong>There, don't we all feel good now? Please leave a note and let me know your thoughts! :)<strong>


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